everything changes

We sat in our chairs, as our now oldest slept. We refer to them as our therapy chairs, bought in lieu of a television. For years we sat with a glass of wine and talked about life. Our struggles. Our defeats. We talked and talked. And talked some more—probably enough to the solve the worlds problems if we cared to do so. We were being intentional with our love for one another one heart-to-heart at a time.

It was in our chairs, we decided that two is more than one. Companionship is what he needed and that our desired outcome would be long and winding with potholes to fill.

Then one morning you arose with a feeling of life inside. A promise made and a promise kept. And though we were older, we felt our renewed hope would fuel us for what was to come.

After the passing of the season, you called one night.  Our communication was few and far between that day, “You should come home. I think it’s time,” you said. Our “only” fast asleep only to wake hours later as our oldest.

We sat in our chairs, as our now oldest slept navigating the change. Living in the promise. Living in the results of decisions made months ago—understanding two is more than one and four is more than three. Love and pain. Both can be true.

Understanding it may take time to get used to. We take it day by day.

Everything changes. Everything changed.